


rejects

by johntography



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "why are you so angry" "because i love you" but make it poly, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Requited Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25050709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johntography/pseuds/johntography
Summary: Ushijima is a miracle and Tendou is a monster, but when they’re by Eita’s side, he can’t imagine a place where he would feel safer.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Tendou Satori, Semi Eita/Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Semi Eita/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 139
Collections: Shiratorizawa Fanweek 2020





	rejects

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this something like 3 years ago. hopefully it stands the test of time! this may be a bit of a solemn take on shiratori group dynamics but they still all love each other to pieces and you can't change my mind (especially tendou goshiki ;-;)
> 
> day 5 of shiratori week: firsts (first confession n all that)

  
  


They start their practice with simple passing and spiking exercises.

Groups form, as usual. The first years, new to the ruthless Shiratorizawa regime – unless they have gone to middle school here, too – tend to flock together in an attempt to reduce efforts. The second years prefer to mingle amongst themselves, some of them having formed close friendships already.

Eita hasn’t always felt like he belongs in the group he usually practices with. That is not due to him not getting along with any of the fellow third years in it – they’re all nice enough to him – or due to their playing styles unable to synchronize. Perhaps, it’s a residue from the silent competition between Shirabu and him; the remnant of the bitter knowledge that no matter how skilled Eita may be, his skills are not made to accommodate Coach Washijou’s vision for the team and the moment Shirabu, someone much more adaptable, much more compliant and stable proves even a little better, his starter spot is gone.

Eita doesn’t complain. He knew what he signed up for when entering the biggest high school powerhouse of Miyagi, what pressure he took upon himself willingly.

Something he hadn’t quite known was how difficult it would be to find a spot on the team _off-court_. Despite how intimidating his teammates may seem to opponents, Eita is considered quite tough as well, and they’re not rude either way. No matter who he would approach, they would not do anything to exclude him purposefully, or ban him from the conversation. The problem lies neither in them nor in him, particularly – they’re just not the same type of people, Eita supposes – because volleyball is what binds them together, but even in their approach to it lie big differences. It’s simply strange, when somebody cracks a joke and expects him to be in on it, except Eita feels anything _but_ in. He used to feel out of the loop more often than not and with how awfully disorienting it is, Eita’s just glad his dynamic with the others has been improving this year to the point where he started to feel comfortable around them. 

Satori – Tendou out loud, because even though Tendou himself has a long time-forged habit of calling people by their first names, whether they like it or not, Eita considers himself more mannered than that – is an acquaintance of convenience, first and foremost. The rooming system is switched up every year in some sort of attempt to forge unlikely friendships, and, well, Eita can’t say that it’s all that futile. There’s a certain sense of affinity amongst teammates in the same year, one that is often helped along by sharing classes or encountering overlapping projects or problems.

In actuality, the only ones who share a class – class 3 – are Ushijima and Yamagata, though those two don’t really have a budding friendship, or any sort of friendship for that matter going for them. The way Yamagata deals with Ushijima’s bluntness often reminds Eita of how he feels about it himself, even though he rarely speaks up on it, but it’s not exactly something he could imagine them bonding over. No matter how different they are Eita still considers Ushijima a friend, and friends don’t gossip about friends behind their backs. He’s strong-principled like that.

It’s the very beginning of the year, second week of April having started, and already things are starting to change. Reon, who is usually just as much a part of their group as Tendou or Ushijima, has taken to pairing up with their first year Goshiki in another corner of the hall. Eita waits for either of his companions to comment on that occurrence. They don’t lose a word about it though, for a reason he can’t begin to figure out. He’s probably reading too much into it anyway: as long as Reon still spends time with them, he can practice with whomever he wants.

Tendou is being his usual cheerful self. Since they haven’t started the practice games yet, he hasn’t had a chance to revert into his guess block mode in which his mood turns rather erratic, and Eita finds himself relishing in his idle chatter. It’s rather something demanding of respect, the speed at which he recounts the events of his favorite manga’s latest chapter – it’s something with hunting, Eita believes – paired with the precision of his movements.

Only after a few rounds of that, the stoic nods and hums from Ushijima a steady background presence, does Eita notice the pattern in Tendou’s passes. It’s a constant mix between overhead sets and receives, a technique Eita himself has been deploying in those exercises to keep his muscle memory intact ever since middle school. He wonders if Tendou is mimicking him on purpose, this time.

It seems rather improbable with how much fun Tendou pokes at just about anything Eita does. But It’s not that he hasn’t long since accustomed to it, getting back at him with banter of his own.

So is this time, as Eita lets his tongue stick out of the corner of his mouth – a gesture of concentration – and Tendou insists on asking him whether he should loan him one of his chapsticks if he’s so keen on keeping his lips moisturized.

Eita regards Tendou, his mouth curled into something equally provoking and warm; big, round eyes squint with the mockery missing in his grin. The teasing smirk plasters itself on Eita’s face without much effort.

"Eita," Ushijima calls, as quietly as his baritone allows, and Eita catches a shadow of hesitation upon his face. It’s gone as it quickly as it came, leaving _him_ unsure if he only imagined it.

"Huh?"

"The other groups are already spiking. Good call, Wakatoshi-kuuuun!" Tendou exclaims with a grin and a thumbs up, executing a dramatic twirl while at it. Ushijima simply nods, already making his way over to the net, ball tucked under his arm.

Eita is about to go over to the cart and retrieve a ball for himself but he catches Ushijima looking back at him, his gaze utterly compelling in its intensity, and makes to follow his group mates.

The way Ushijima looked just then – not in that fleeting moment during Tendou’s and Eita’s banter – is reminiscent of what Eita used to think of him, back in their first year.

He’s not one to decide hastily but in the middle of his own conflict it was hard to stay objective. In a team that is built upon the ace’s shoulders, trusting him to carry its weight through his sheer power and strength, there is no place for a setter to prove himself and his strategy.

Ushijima was not to blame, Eita had realized over time. The initial dislike, once disposed of the outer layers, was an admiration that put him on a pedestal he never asked for.

Ushijima is a simple person. He likes it when his team wins and when his hayashi rice is full of onion rings, is painfully blunt in his desire to always be honest, often even when other people don’t notice, such as when he reads magazines and feels too guilty to skip over the advertisements. He doesn’t know how to keep secrets, but keeps a stash of gardening books under his bed. The only times when he uses his phone is to text his mother facts from those.

He is not without faults, by any means. But over three years of their edges involuntarily rubbing against each other, of Tendou’s references and Eita’s sarcasm being completely overlooked by him it has grown on Eita to the point of finding it familiarly endearing. ("Nothing can go over your head because you would catch it, right, Wakatoshi-kun?" "I don’t know what you mean.") Something that caused so much frustration and annoyance in the beginning doesn’t even earn a roll of his eyes anymore, what with the awkwardness having molded into patient explanations.

Is it Tendou’s charming enthusiasm about getting to know Ushijima, initiating conversation tirelessly, no matter how one-sided, that rubbed off on him? Eita isn’t gullible, prides himself on his individuality and refusal to conform, so what is it? Is it Ushijima’s single-mindedness that has transferred onto him, causing the nerve endings on his fingertips as Ushijima passes him the ball to flare up?

Eita hasn’t always felt like he belongs with the group of people he’s come to surround himself with but no matter how many questions are left unanswered or how much insecurity is being repressed deep into his subconscious, there’s something so natural about their company nowadays that makes him feel at home.

An unshakeable thing he deems it, a grounding base for all of them to return to from highs and lows. When Ushijima spreads his wings, feathers turning to steel as he smashes through the opponent’s block. When Tendou’s focus latches onto every detail and facet of the opponents, his instinct clueing him in as to when to jump for the block, putting all of him at stake in a 50:50 chance.

When Eita gives into the intoxicating feeling of freedom as he serves, he can only do that because he knows there will always be someone to have his back. Someone who trusts him to make the point, but who doesn't blame him more than he blames himself if he fails. 

Ushijima is a miracle and Tendou is a monster, but when they’re by Eita’s side, he can’t imagine a place where he would feel safer.

So maybe he has been lulled into this safety, and it’s about time he snaps out of it. When a crashing sound and a quiet, for his baritone, grunt echoes across the gym, seemingly bouncing off the walls and piercing Eita’s ear drums at an unbearable frequency.

By the time he has turned around from his setter’s position and laid eyes on Ushijima’s form on the floor, Tendou is already next to him, quick as a bolt of lightning. A hand, even bigger than Ushijima’s, on his back, talking to him in a whispering, comforting tone. Ushijima appears to nod, and Tendou’s hand curls into his shirt, his red quiff of a hairstyle pressed against his cheek as he rests his head on the broad shoulder next to him for a brief moment.

Eita is already running toward them, as are the coaches, but something heavy thuds inside of him even though Ushijima’s face, not contorted in pain, seems nonchalantly stoic as ever.

It’s an ankle sprain. Nothing tragic, nothing irreversible – if the rehabilitation is successful, it will be the only one Ushijima will have to experience. But no matter how positively everyone strives to think, they are still visibly shaken up and rattled. Once more Eita is reminded of his opinion on how easy it is to mess with the balance of a team that is built around a single person, but given how affected he is, it seems like a hypocritical thought to voice right now.

Ushijima misses classes for a week and doesn’t appear in training (obviously). The worst part is that he is ordered to move out of the dorms until he’s back at one hundred percent so that his parents can take care of him (of course). Except no matter how understandable, all of that leads to a lack of Ushijima in Eita’s life that makes him feel as though the well-glued pieces he consists of are coming apart at the seams. Not quite disintegrating, but no longer stable enough for him to be fine.

Reon, Eita’s dorm mate this year, is incredibly considerate. He goes out of his way to offer Eita an open ear or treat him to tekka makki but Eita can’t help but decline, first hesitantly, then briskly, creating a bubble of isolation around him. It's something he doesn’t even notice is happening until Yamagata calls him out on it.

On the other hand Tendou grows more hostile in Ushijima’s absence. His usually biting and mocking humor takes on an acidic, almost destructive edge, leaving especially the first years at a loss in response to the mean remarks. Goshiki receives the majority of them, seeing as how he strives to be the ace and is let onto the court with the starter formation now, something that Tendou perceives as a desire to threaten Ushijima’s position and replace him. Eita along with Reon, and Yamagata as the unofficial mentor for their juniors, demand he stop after a countless amount of unnecessarily cruel comments that have drawn out everyone’s patience to its end. It doesn’t end well.

"Well, as you kindly ask me to stop, I kindly ask you to keep your big noses out of my business." Manic shadows flicker in Tendou’s eyes like licks of fire, like he's on the court.

"Tendou," Reon warns calmly.

But it doesn't serve to break the fall. 

"You can’t possibly be serious? How is you downright insulting and putting down your own teammates, thus absolutely _shitting_ on the team dynamic, not our business?" Eita questions, feeling his voice gain in volume even though he doesn’t want to yell, not with the crowd forming around them, because not everyone has left the gym yet after cleaning up, and he’s not the type to seek confrontations in general—

Tendou snorts before he throws his head back and starts laughing, quietly, frenzied, for a minute that stretches too long.

Reon attempts to pull Eita along. He tries to drag him away from finally getting an answer, from finding out why Tendou’s had his head up his own behind for the past few weeks and Eita just can't have that because, frankly, it’s been hell.

When his cackling comes to an end, Tendou walks over to Eita. Slowly, his steps are as pronounced as his diction in his manic state, too composed to be anger. Not cheerful enough to be anything else.

"Why don’t you look at yourself first, Eita-kun, if that’s all you usually do anyway. Isn’t this what you wanted? Wakatoshi, the dependable ace, out of your way to be able to show off like the arrogant prick you are? Except Coach prefers Shirabu one way or another, because you’re just not good enough."

Eita just stands there and takes it, fingers shaking as if he’d just attempted to overhand receive one of his teammates’ powerful serves. All the fight that has been collecting inside of him over the weeks, only rarely bleeding out through snapping at Tendou more than usual is nowhere to be found, as he suddenly feels as though he has gone without sleep for days upon days.

The exhaustion weighs heavy. It lodges itself in the line of his shoulders, when he slumps them and hangs his head.

"Okay," he says and nods, before looking up once more, gritting his teeth. "That doesn’t mean I will stand for you terrorizing my teammates, though. If you have a problem with me – if you want to fight me or whatever, go for it, but stop. Being an asshole to everyone else. Did I make myself clear?"

It’s not Tendou. Not the familiar, teasingly fond Tendou, who begs Eita to watch anime with him, offering to do his homework, even though they don’t differ much in academic intelligence – no, the Tendou in front of him must be some sort of a ghost, because he looks at him and blinks, as if he no longer understands Japanese.

Eita’s breathing picks up, before he does the last thing he can think of.

"DID I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!" he screams, at the top of his lungs, directly into Tendou’s face, because the distance between them has been dissolving without either noticing.

Tendou’s mouth twitches. Words seem to try to break out against his will, before his jaw slackens and his eyes widen to such an extent that Eita is almost worried if they can physically take it.

"Eita," he says then, in a broken voice, looking off to the side. "Did I… have I…"

"What?"

"I didn’t…" Tendou gasps, pupils flicking from side to side frantically. "I didn’t mean any of that. I didn’t want to say—I could never think something like that, just like everything I said to Goshiki and everyone else – God, how could I—"

"Why did you do it, then," Eita inquires, though it’s even less of a question than the one before.

"I just—I was so upset, and sad, and everyone wasn’t, and that made me—mad," Tendou says, helplessly, his hands circling in desperate motions.

Eita licks his lips, nods. "You were upset that Wakatoshi got injured and decided to take it out on everyone else like an asshole," he concludes drily.

Tendou sighs, rubbing his face. "That’s probably about it. God, I messed up so bad, I should have never even opened my mouth."

"You shouldn’t have," Eita replies, and turns around to leave, when Tendou calls his name.

"Eita, SemiSemi, please—I know I’m in the wrong here, just, hear me out, let me apologize—"

"I’m not the one you need to apologize to," Eita interrupts. "I don’t have anything to say to you otherwise."

He doesn’t meet Tendou’s eyes, because from his peripheral vision he can already see Tendou’s face, contorted in pain and regret and misery and he will end up giving in if he gets a full view of all that.

And yet, he does.

"Do you honestly think you were the only one who’s upset? Do you honestly think none of us care about him and want him to be back with us, healthy and well?"

"No," Tendou murmurs, "but—"

"But what?" Eita cuts him off once more. "Do you think you get some sort of special treatment because you live in the same dorm now – not that you didn’t practically live in ours last year – or because you came up with that _stupid_ nickname for him, or because he reads Shounen Jump with you?"

Tendou looks mellow now. Eita feels quite the opposite: the anger resurfaces inside of him slowly, when he remembers that static feeling from weeks ago and every time the three of them have hung out and Ushijima had done something he decidedly refused to label as cute. Just like he didn’t– doesn’t let himself look at Tendou for longer than necessary, because it’s not right, because, oh, what would they think of him?

It’s too late when Eita notices the lone tear sliding down his cheek, because it’s in the same moment that Tendou extends his hand and wipes it away with one of those long fingers of his, supernova-warm and rough-textured in its callouses against the skin of his cheek.

Eita is just about to say something. Anything, really, in order to justify why he’s crying. Maybe even years of friendship will allow him a lie such as that he cries easily, although he doesn’t, never has—

But Tendou speaks first.

"You love him too, don’t you?"

There is no _click_ or _boom_ or _gwaah_ in Eita’s head, as he looks in Tendou’s eyes and lets his words sink in. He just thinks about it, a few moments passing, Tendou’s hand drawing miniscule circles on his cheekbone, and can’t find any argument to support his denial, so he nods.

Tendou beams, and it’s equally strange and appropriate with his glassy eyes and pointed-down mouth before he seems to remember something that wipes the smile clean off his face.

"Do you… do… no, that’s not right, is it," Tendou shakes his head, biting his lip in disarray.

Eita sighs.

"I love _you_ as well, you jerk," he says, almost nonchalantly, because he’s freaking out so badly that he’s calm now.

A shaky breath escapes Tendou’s lips, as he puts his other hand on Eita’s cheek too, framing his face effectively.

"Idiot, you can’t, not after—and in general—"

"Oh, you’re gonna tell me who to have feelings for, too?" Eita quirks his brow, even though he’s not sure he gets it right with his eyes blinking rapidly.

Tendou chuckles, his breath fanning across Eita’s face with how close they are, and pulls him impossibly close, almost squishing him to death with how tight their embrace is. Nonsense apologies are whispered into his hair, but Eita doesn’t make a single sarcastic comment. He feels too much like he belongs to bother with that.


End file.
